


Words

by writingat205am



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, Sherlock Being Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 11:07:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14259624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingat205am/pseuds/writingat205am
Summary: Request:   Omg, I love your blog! Can I ask for a Sherlock x reader with “Quit smiling at me, I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.” please? Now excuse me while I go read all the rest of your stories.**Posted from my tumblr: (https://writing-at-205am.tumblr.com/)





	Words

Sherlock was a man who prided himself in not only his massive amounts of knowledge, but also his ability to regurgitate it in equally enormous quantities. You sat amused in John’s chair as the detective paced and circled the living space. He only stopped to look you in the eyes to make sure you were still listening before continuing on his unconscious attempt to wear the poor carpet down. “The category of the ash is hard to place…” he turned his head opting to glance at the Cluedo board stabbed into the wall, “but the color some white, American brands, Virginia specifically more gray- so distinct.” He continued to mumble, now with his eyes closed and hands rubbing his face.

Your eyes twinkled, and you grinned, entertained by his predicament. It wasn’t often Sherlock would find himself with a puzzle or something he couldn’t research quickly. There would be much to talk about when John came back with the milk. Resting your chin on your hand, you followed Sherlock’s form moving from the bookcase back to the chair in front of you.

With a huff, he stretched his legs out and placed his hands together under his chin, staring intensely at you. “Gawith burns down to a fine gray ash… English.. No Northern England… other English brands are darker, more coarse…” He trailed off again before standing up suddenly and groaning. “You need to stop,” he said quietly, sitting down on the settee near the door.

“What?” you replied, now frowning slightly and confused.

“Quit smiling at me, I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.”

You paused for a few seconds, comprehending what he had just said. “Really Sherlock?” Smiling again you moved from the chair to sit next to him on the sofa.

He rolled his eyes but moved his arm around you, “Be quiet.”

This made your smile even bigger, sliding onto his lap as he started thinking back to the case again, “Lighter and finer indicates older-”. You gently turned his head towards you and kissed him softly.

Pulling back a few minutes later you kissed his nose, “I love you Sherlock.”

The corners of his lips were turned up and his hands rested on your hips, “Where was I, yes, the age-”

“Sherlock!”

“You know I love you too darling.” He said with a smirk, kissing your cheek.


End file.
